A Guide to Getting By: Mediocrity
by Ophelias dream
Summary: “Where to?” He let it be like the world hadn’t changed and that they were going for an afternoon stroll. Like he hadn’t almost just been condemned, that they hadn’t been out of contact for over six months and like nothing had ever gone wrong.
1. Chapter 1

Mediocrity

_The two of them walked up the hill, Blonde and Redhead, Boy and Girl that and so much more between them as far as diffrences go. Neither exchanged a word, no glances were caught between them and she was fine with that. She usually went for her ride alone and quiet was expected and appreciated. He didn't talked or acknowledged her when she flew around and looped about on her own either; and when she handed off her broomstick to him he neither gracefully nor rudely accepted. It was okay, she thought to herself, she hadn't offered him a ride on her broomstick to talk to him, she offered because he probably needed it even more than she did, and she was right. She watched him fly and he looked, not happy but as if for the first time in a while things weren't bad.Things weren't good or even okay yet, but usually when he was walking around his face was hung with misfortune and bitter resignation. When he came back down she almost smiled at him, but caught herself, she doubted he would take well to a pitiance like a smile. she couldn't imagine what he was feeling, because he didn't tell anyone what he was going through. She couldn't tell if he needed sympathy or not, but regardless the flying seemed to take the weight off something. _

_The silence remained, neither of them said or did anything, they just alternated use of her broom silently. It was a peaceful, strangely enjoyable interaction. They would have kept going that way too, if Mrs. Weasley hadn't called them in to lunch. _

_After lunch though, was when it started. After helping her mother clean up Ginny considered and promptly afterwards decided to look around for Draco. She generally flew in the morning and that was it, but during the meal she had stolen glances at Draco and though he hadn't opened up at all during flying he looked, somehow, even more closed off once back in the Burrow. _

_If he would accept, she would take him out for another ride. She found him up in his room (they, the family, had considered rooming him with Ron and Harry but it immediately was apparent that that was a bad idea) he was lying on his back, staring at the ceiling; it was almost all she ever saw him do. She always just wrote him off as wasting his time, it had never occurred to her before that day, that maybe he didn't have anything better to be doing. What did he actually HAVE to do? Guilt ate at her insides for being insensitive to his obvious lack of interaction. With a house full of children, she never considered it possible to miss human interaction; then again, she never had it quite like Malfoy. _

_She knocked lightly and stood in the doorway, not wanting to enter his space with out permission she asked softly "I'm going back up to the field, want another go?" she liked him more and disliked him less when he was flying, and got the feeling he liked her a little too when he was flying. It seemed like a good situation to be in. He looked at her and gave her an empty smile that was a false front he obviously put up a lot in his life. It wasn't an offensive false front it was just an awkward acceptence of her offer. Ginny however just grinned at his icy demeanor and cocked her head towards the door. _

_"Sure." He nodded and got up and followed her out, he wasn't extraordinarily surprised looking, but Ginny had been around him enough at least to know not to judge his emotions on his face. Cause his face only screamed sociopath. _

_Sure enough, after five minuets of walking, not exactly next to him, he said, "Thank you." He was looking at her not with a look of thanks but a look that said, 'I'm talking to you.' and nothing more. _

_"No one who loves to fly ought to be kept down for so long. Even a prick like you." She responded truthfully; it might make him uncomfortable but if they were going to be in each others company, and for all intents and purposes, become friends, there were some definatre roadblocks they needed to get over. His personality would do for a start._

_He had a small twitch in the corner of his mouth and she took that for the beginning of a real smile. They kept walking, now side by side. A few more minuets and he eyed her, "I'm not a bad guy—you know." he said, off-handily but masked from any seriousness that was underlying. _

_"Yea right!" she grinned at him to show she didn't believe a word he said but didn't care anyways. _

_"I'm serious…" he said slightly affronted, "I mean I might have my…" _

_"Evil side?" she helped with a sarcastic snort. _

_"I was going to say less than perfect." he raised an eyebrow. _

_She laughed a little and caught his gaze again and sighed, "Look Malfoy, it really doesn't matter to me, and its not as if It think you're all bad, really, that's why I let you on my broom." She said reassuringly, "But," she went on a little more seriously, "I might trust you, but I don't believe that… you've completely turned sides." She admitted. _

_It even sounded harsh when she said it; she tried to make him understand without being offended. "I mean, that's like saying I'd go help the dark lord and kill Harry Potter. It's not that I think you'll turn on us and go back… there. I just think it's more likely that you're neutral and know that we protect that rather then punish that." She said bluntly with a look that said if he wanted her to think otherwise he'd have to prove it. The jury was still out on him, she didn't expect much. And by that she meant she thought the best of him, and though she didn't expect him to do any huge acts of heroism, she didn't expect him to turn and do any evil either. _

_"You don't think I could do it?" he asked softly, not offended, not hurt just honestly asking. "You think this is all a protection game?" _

_She looked at him. She didn't need to be nice to him. _

_"I don't think you could do it." Was all she said in response. It was true, she liked him. He rarely talked and when he did she wasn't always thrilled with the things that came out of his mouth and it wasn't like he was Mr. humanitarian but she didn't think he was a bad person. Just the likelihood of a lifetime of allegiances being turned in a mere few months seemed absurd. Even if it were possible she wasn't sure she could trust someone who so quickly changed their beliefs. _

_They'd reached the pitch and she, not rudely, mounted her broom and made a few loops around the field. When she came back down, he was staring right at her the whole way down, and when she got off her broom he was face to face with her. He wrapped his hand around the extended broom but didn't take it from her quite yet "I could." Was all he said. She looked at him, and he was all determination. Maybe it just seemed so intense because his face was usually void of anything but it still was a fierce look. _

_"Alright." Her response was automatic and she wasn't sure where exactly it had come from. She didn't know why she'd said it but she did know that it was true. She didn't think it would be immediate or loud but she believed that he would not only stand on their side, but eventually fight as well. _

There was never a definitive ending and beginning, nor was there a definitive ending place or beginning place either, so we'll begin somewhere in the middle. It was just the two of them—something you couldn't measure in time or place. How did they start; it started with the end of Hogwarts and that era of their lives. When he and she both graduated from Hogwarts, picking a side was crucial to every ex-student. He picked her side, to the world he abandoned his family, his friends and the allegiances that he'd held true too for years, for what? To most, it still wasn't clear. After all that was said and done he was welcomed, perhaps not with wide open arms but welcome none the less, into the Orders fold. It wasn't clear why he'd done it to begin with, but a general cautious trust was put up for the youngest Malfoy. Children, it had already been decided, should never have been involved of acts of war, he should not seek their forgiveness, and they should have sought his.

The Order roomed him and fed him with the rest and most everyone held back from outwardly ostracizing, but no one put themselves on the line to befriend him. He didn't really have a problem with that. He'd chosen their side because he could not choose that which his family had pursued. He wasn't there to make friends or family, he was there because as much as he'd hate to admit it, he had no where else to go.

Even with a turned leaf and a new life, regardless of what Malfoy did he was rich, rich in attitude, rich in pretentious airs and still, forever, rich in gold. Family inheritance could not be stopped by broken bonds and when Draco turned 17, half of the Malfoy fortune automatically became his, regardless of his allegiance.

Their worlds might have seemed too different but in the end they ended up needing each other. Malfoy needed someone that cared, that could let go of all the crap, the preconceptions, his family, the icy front he put up and just give him a blank slate; and Ginny, no matter how much she would impress that she really didn't need anyone, needed something important in life that wasn't family. Without knowing it then, mostly she needed a friend.

More than occasionally they pushed each others buttons, her brusque and often blunt demeanor irritated him at best; and he pushed her buttons right back, his unknowingly haughty and pretentious airs bothered her but it was his naiveté and lack of understanding of the not so subtle differences in their life-styles that really drove her mad. That's where they were, rough around the edges and naïve.

The war had barely come to head; some called that time the beginning of the war, others who had seen a much too familiar beginning saw it as a second start. Neither of them was very much involved in whatever that time was. People all around seem preoccupied and overwhelmed but there didn't seem to be a place for the two. Even in their eagerness to be involved. That is perhaps why they were so important for each other to find. They were never supposed to get romantically involved though; it would have been too easy to ruin everything, and she knew it—maybe he didn't though, or maybe, he really did.

The setting and the times've changed and now it is two years after she graduated. Living in London near Saint Mungo's where she pull's herself out of bed and presents herself at everyday. Ginny loved being a healer, she loved helping and interacting with people, only the hours were long and especially on days she double-shifted, she had to remind herself that this is what she loved. Double-shift meant that she didn't come trudging back home until seven o'clock in the evening. And this particular evening, perhaps it would have been more fortunate, for both of them, if she hadn't dragged herself home so promptly. She dutifully, to herself, did though and finally getting to her apartment and fumbling with the stubborn, half broken latch—she was home. Whispering a few quick spells to light and warm the place; there, sitting on her couch was an all too peppy, very hungry and expectant looking Draco Malfoy, waiting for his dinner.

With a long groan and a deflated banging of her head against the now closed door she mumbled, "Evening Malfoy." managing only a not so pleasant, none too happy voice.

He did this often, too often really. Deciding, when he didn't want to go out to eat—he was too much of a bachelor to actually know how to prepare anything in the way of edibles on his own—he would come skulking in, half grinning and not ask but flawlessly mooch food from her and her kitchen; making it her personal duty to keep him nourished.

She really did care about his state, she reflected, and deep down knew if she didn't feed him he wouldn't eat. He was like that and Ginny knew it. So no matter how tired or resentful, almost every night, Ginny found herself in the kitchen cooking something he would hopefully enjoy. It was like having a kid, a very adult, very snotty kid.

He didn't say a word, but grinned at her from her couch. She ignored him and proceeded to the kitchen. She'd been through this too many times to think telling that him to go home was in any way effective. She was rarely up for his antics in the evenings and tonight he had more than just antics on his mind.

"Weasley," they were sitting down at her small table and he was lifting forkfuls of pasta to his mouth by the second, consuming very quickly what had taken her almost an hour to prepare. He was getting at something, she'd felt he'd been getting at something for days; she just didn't want to hear it tonight.

She looked up at him from the book she had not so subtly been trying to read over her dinner and half glared, half stared him down. He might be her best friend and they might get along lovely and have tons to say and talk about, but at 8 o'clock on Saturday evening she wasn't putting up with any of it.

"Be with me." he didn't ask, he just stated and stared back at her, seriously but not solemnly. He apparently would not abide by her wishes for a peaceful evening.

Her hard stare remained and the only response she let out was the raising of one eyebrow. Her eyes slid down to her book and back up again, doing a double take of him, he was still staring; his face unreadable and unflinching.

"Excuse me?"

"I love you," it was awkward but so innocent, in his mannish not romantically inclined way. She stared at him, when had he gotten so unabashed and blunt. When had his quirky sense of humor stopped being snarky. She stared at him and she realized that he wasn't rude or mean anymore, he was sometimes sarcastic but never at her expense. She had gotten to know him for who he was, not who the world thought he was, but that didn't make him a nice person. In fact, that's why the got along so well, he was snide and almost mean, but genuine; but somehow, he had genuinely stopped being mean to her. When had it stopped being normal for him to trip her walking down the hall and laugh at her instead of saying sorry and helping her up. Some time recently, was all she could remember. So she just stared at him. She knew then, that somewhere in the back of her mind she had started valuing him and their relationship above any other; she just could not remember this much of a progression.

He looked at her like she was daft, "Be with me." he said slower and a little less securely.

Finally her brain caught up to her confusion and she opened her mouth and a short harsh laugh came out. Her mind was panicking so her mouth did all it knew how to do to bide for time, yammered on like a big ass.

"It's not that easy Malfoy. I can't just be with you, even if I wanted." She grinned, let it be a joke she prayed, let it be a joke.

"Why?" he put his fork down and crossed his arms.

She stared at him and stopped half smiling; she could not believe she was having this conversation—with, apparently, her overgrown five year old son.

"I have life to take care of now." She shouldn't have to explain this to him, or justify it. He should just let it lie. It was too late, she was too tired and he was being too needy.

"Life… doesn't involve love for you? I thought of all people it would for a person like you." He gave her a knowing condescending look, like he didn't believe any of the words coming out of her mouth.

"Who… a poor person?" she joked back, not jokingly.

"God, Weasley" he wasn't condescending, he was just irritated now, "not everything is about that." He rested his arms on the table. It wasn't going to be a short pleasant evening she decided.

"No Malfoy, you don't understand, do you?" she was going to make this as quick as possible, which meant it would probably be a little more painful in the process. "It is about that. You're talking about being together, no matter that it's completely out of the blue and irrelevant-"

"-irrelevant Weasley? What does relevance have to do with any-"

"It's got to do with everything," her voice was rising, "and don't interrupt me, Malfoy! This is about it and about the difference between you and me." even if it was just her mouth yammering on to begin with, the more she heard what she was saying the more she got steamed up.

He looked at her baffled "Yes, some of life is about love," she added and waved her hand in the air to brush away the menial idea, "and a lot of thoughts, desires and dreams are about love but you know what you don't get? The little piece that you miss," she pinched her fingers close together and brought it up between them "that not everyone can just go for it, not everyone has the time, the resources or the foundation to just let love rule everything and let go of their responsibilities." She spat back. She don't know how he came into her apartment and what he thought he was doing or would happen, but she was too tired to rationalize and calm down. At the same time she was all too aware that she wasn't quite sure why she was yelling and what Malfoy had actually done to illicit this response, but he was angry none the less.

"So run away from that all Weasley. You're the only one stopping it from being important or do-able." She glared at him and he cut her off before she could open her mouth again.

"Run away with me. Seriously, why not Weasley?"

"Malfoy. You're such a prat; you're a rich spoiled prat."

He grinned at her "you don't mean brat?"

"No I mean prick." She spat back.

"Hey, why are you yelling at me?" he demanded, his eyebrows arching and his face loosing humor.

"Stop joking around Malfoy, you think that just because you have it made, no one else needs to work hard for it? Or that they're just not working hard enough? You talk about running away and being with you as if it's just an easy thing. It's not about being with you even, it's about you're disregard for everyone; drop everything in run. When will you realize that not everyone has that luxury, to be able to do that? How do I spell it out more clearly for you that you have it easy and some of us are just trying to get by." Maybe it was the long day, his incessant mooching or his obvious disregard for any soar of realities in general but draco Malfoy was really pissing her off.

"Well that is news to me Weasley; I didn't know you were such a defeatist. This doesn't wait, and not everyone gets the chance, not everyone is so lucky. You and I are lucky and it's not because I'm rich or your not. Its cause we have something that money and riches can't touch. It wouldn't matter to me if you were on the streets or in a manor. And you obviously don't care if I'm the richest man alive, I irritate you regardless." He added half jokingly but with a roll of his eyes. "This is bigger than all that silly stuff."

"Silly stuff," she snorted ungracefully, "you mean money?"

"Yea, money" he rolled his yes, "gold, the stuff you fear so badly."

"We all NEED that money Malfoy, you just never realized how much you needed it cause you always had it." Worn down a little and more exasperated. How did she tell him that it wasn't him she was mad at, it was the fact that he was making her face these realities in herself. That she couldn't be with him and that she didn't have the money. And how did her exhausted trek home and half hearted dinner become a yelling match?

He looked at her even more exasperated, "not everything is about money, and money is defiantly not more important than everything between us."

What was between them though, she wondered. Sure she loved him and in some time pictured perhaps he would be the one she would end up with, but now? What was there now, really?

"I know that; I know I never NEEDED money, but I need this more, and I think you do too. And you're just afraid. Run away with me. I don't care, my money is yours, or we can throw it all away and you're non existent money can be mine too." He grinned; apparently he was well aware of the now.

"No Malfoy, I can't just drop everything, this is how the other half lives, FACE it. Not everything no, but a lot is about money when you don't have it. And I don't just run away from my responsibility to myself. And you couldn't live a week without your money. She rolled her eyes, the sad part is, I don't think you know it."

"Fine, Weasley. Maybe I didn't do this right, maybe it was too sudden, I didn't think so but clearly you're not in the mood to talk" He wasn't grinning any more and he wasn't frowning he just looked at her like he didn't recognize her face and he walked out the door, "and you think that I'm the shallow one."

She stayed in her seat after he left and mulled in every word that had just passed. She wondered why she had reacted like that, why she had exploded so suddenly with out really letting his words in. She semi realized half way into her yelling that she wanted him to force her to be with him, because she was too prideful to admit it was what she wanted. She couldn't tell him that though, and she knew it was too much to expect him to know. What did she mean this was how the other half lived? She always knew she wanted to end up with Draco; she just wanted both of their lives to be put together and full when it happened. She didn't want to fuck up with Draco. How could she say it would have to wait?

Because it did, and even though she knew shed done right it still felt like complete shit.

He wasn't really a prat to her and they both knew it. Even when he'd just gotten out of school it had taken him months to open up to anyone, but he had, to her. He was just as abrasive and childish as he had been in school but, finally, at the end of summer, before Ginny'd returned to school they'd started to talk.

They put him up at the Burrow with the Weasleys, as the Order had no real idea where to put him. There he ate and lived with the Weasleys without really interacting or mingling with their lifestyle. At first Ron and Harry tried to excite and provoke him, but even that he just walked away from, not taking the bait and eventually they stopped. He stopped being a threat, but wasn't welcome, either in their minds.

Every weekend, when Ginny went to practice flying, she would ask him if he wanted a go on her broom up at the Weasleys makeshift Quidditich pitch. She didn't exactly care for his company or for the lack of it, but she pitied him and knew how difficult it must be to stay in her house with her brother, and having to leave everything he knew behind. He hadn't been able to take any of his possessions with him yet and that not flying must have driven him crazy. It was on the weekend he finally accepted her offer on that they started to talk.

This is where the time of their story starts to loop back to the beginning; where we started. After remembering their odd beginning Ginny, still sitting at her now lonely dinning room table dropped her head onto the table with a bang—hitting herself in the head cause of Draco Malfoy for the second time that evening. What was wrong with her; why couldn't se let herself be with him? Everyone around her knew it was inevitable, she just thought it would be later. Later, everything would happen later. It was incredible how much he'd changed. He was still an arrogant prick most of the time but he didn't make blood related references and gave an honest effort to help the Order. He didn't care for people in general, and his actions weren't directed for them or at them. Why didn't she just take the chance she was always talking about taking—oh yea: Rose; his girlfriend.


	2. Chapter 2

I accidentaly reposted chapter onw again... this IS chapter two this time, sorry!

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Chapter 2

"He loves me. I always kind of knew that." She laughed nervously and slightly unstably, taking a shaky swig of butterbeer.

"Well…" Hermione pursed her lips looking at her friend, knowingly yet cautiously; her and Ginny were close but they rarely went out for lunch, mostly because of family and the circles they ran in they saw each other plenty without extra plans on the side. From the get go Hermione knew something big was happening, or something was just very wrong. "do you love him back?"

Ginny looked up and stared blankly. Very wrong, She thought to herself, Hermione'd never seen Ginny so at a loss, or lost.

"He asked me to run away with him; to be with him." She looked winded and frightened.

"Yes," Hermione gave her a soft understanding look, "I know. Why didn't you say yes than?"

Ginny smiled a bitter smile, "I couldn't have even said yes if he weren't with someone else."

Hermione rolled her eyes, "Ginny, I'm all for upholding moral standards but everyone knows he doesn't love her. Everyone knows you're so much more important, even she probably knows it."

"Then why doesn't he just break up with her?" Ginny's heart had hardened suddenly, "You shouldn't have to tear yourself away from a woman you don't care for. And it shouldn't be that difficult to be single for a woman you care for either." Her face and emotions closed off immediately. If she could hide behind his short comings so she wouldn't have to face her fears, she would. They both knew it.

"Ginny," Hermione looked at her, careful to state the obvious, "you never gave him any indication that you loved him back like that. You never showed that you were interested."

"Neither did he." She looked at Hermione with a harsh glare.

"Well, he did last night didn't he?" Hermione said with a pointed look.

Ginny glared at Hermione, gathering her thoughts and searching for a rebuttal, "Love me or her; he shouldn't have to make a decision. I would drop it all for him. But I won't be the other woman."

"Oh, Ginny…"

"No! I know what everyone thinks; that we're meant to be. I won't lie, I thought so too. But he can't just say things like that offhand. He can't just…"

"What, Ginny? He can't just be in love with you? He went on a whim, it's not like you are clearly in love with him! He loves you Ginny, and maybe he's in the wrong. But if you love him back don't push him away." It was odd, Hermione lecturing to her about love; books didn't teach you love she thought to herself. Then again, Hermione was much more than just book smart.

Hermione observed Ginny carefully and gently changed the subject "Lets just let it go, and go back to work Ginny. Just please tell me you wont push him away for no reason." She stood up and put some gold on the table.

"Yea… thanks for taking lunch with me." she thanked with a real, slightly tired, smile.

"Anytime Ginny."

Ginny spent the rest of her day at work thinking about Malfoy and his words, on and off; half wishing she'd said yes and half sure she should have been harsher and cut him out completely.

She went home earlier Sunday evenings, and got to the steps of her apartment around six o'clock.

She walked in and looked at the couch noncommittally, to nevertheless find him sitting there.

Instead of ignoring him like she had last night she walked toward him and stood at the back of the armchair he was occupying and breathed in a no nonsense dangerous tone into the back of his head, "Malfoy."

He rolled his head back and looked up at her lazily with a superior smirk on his face.

"You'd better be making spaghetti tonight." He lolled his head back in position and continued reading that days Daily Prophet rubbing the back of his neck "I've had a shitty day and I need something delicious."

She stared down it his head her mouth open, unable to actually think of anything to say she stalked over to the kitchen and threw some pasta into a pot, all the while wondering why he continued to plague her house for dinner. She didn't even really give great dinner conversation. Hermione was right, she gave him no indication that she cared. It had never occurred to her that she'd had to; she figured he knew she cared.

She set the pot to boil and walked over to him again, this time approaching him from the front and looked down at him with a face that clearly said 'WELL?'

"I lost a client today." He said without looking up from his paper.

She just continued to stare him down with a harsh look on her face, and was really beginning to wonder why he bothered with her at all.

He sighed and put the paper down. "I didn't sleep last night, I woke un an hour late and got hell from my boss and I stepped into a puddle this morning and walked around for 3 hours with gross wet socks before I realized I could dry them with magic." He raised his eyebrows at me.

I sat down next to him heavily and turned my head to look him.

Sensitivity, she thought, work on your sensitivity. "That sucks" she got out.

He smirked a little at her.

"So, fettuccini?"

She glared back "Marinara."

He looked a little put out, like he always looked when things weren't going his way, something that often happened around her, "I suppose with the right amount of cheese that would be good." He added nonchalantly as if marinara were really his next request.

She was the one smiling now, "with garlic." And for a split second she could see his mouth form a pout before he caught himself and she laughed and got up and went back to the kitchen to prepare the sauce.

He turned and glared at her retreating figure and shot, "tease!" at her back.

She just grinned at him and started chopping tomatoes.

Twenty minuets later he was lying on his back done with his paper, staring at the ceiling when Ginny cleared her throat. He looked up and she was plating the pasta. Glaring at him harshly she then looked, none to subtly at the bare table.

Dragging his legs Draco pulled himself off the couch and too her drawers and cupboards, getting cups and cutlery. They worked in a comfortable silence, what he was thinking she had no idea, but she watched him and wondered again why he came to her house for dinner, when he could go out anywhere with anyone. She was grumpy at best every evening and dinner conversation was nil or yelling on her part. No where else would make him actually work either. Before bringing the pasta over she grated cheese over his plate. Setting food down at both place settings, Ginny got out her usual meal time literature and sat down to her own plate of spaghetti.

Without a word, a hand, attached to an arm, attached to Draco Malfoy pulled the book down.

"You know it was all a bluff," he said looking her in the eye, somehow through being an ass hole he looked completely sincere, "of course it'll wait."

She looked at him and nodded and pulled the book back upright. She never knew how to react to him when he was blunt; when she was blunt she was testy and snappy at best. When he was he wore his heart on his sleeve like it couldn't get ripped in two; it was unnerving.

She didn't read a single word of her book that night but flipped the pages believably three times. She could hear him eating, it wasn't unusually loud or odd, it sounded the same, but she was so in tune to him at that moment. She was fighting so hard not to look at him that the sound of his eating completely distracted her senses. She was still thinking about what Hermione had said, how she never gave an indication that she might care. Finally, she lifted her eyes to look up at him.

"I was bluffing too you know," She said, "of course I care."

He made about two seconds of eye contact and smirked and nodded.

"Cocky bastard" she mumbled and rolled her eyes, going back and reading, again but actually reading this time.

The second time she looked up it was the absence of noise that distracted her, she looked at him and rose an eyebrow precariously high. She might have questioned why he put up with her poor company but she knew what kept him coming back for the most part was he loved her food and his plate wasn't half eaten.

"You'd hit me If I kissed you now right?" He was smirking at her in his pretentious knowing way that made her face turn red.

"Yes." She hissed out as scathingly as she could and brought her book up higher. She wanted him to know she cared, she didn't want him to walk all over her though. It was a bluff though, and he defiantly didn't know it.

"You know I did like her" he said, her face wasn't red anymore but she had mentally just cringed, she hated talking about Rose.

Ginny stared at him, it hurt but instead of showing it she nodded reasonably, "I know."

"And you know I thought you were good together." A resentfully honest statement she managed to get out without a glitch.

"I know." he said tiredly.

"We weren't though."

She rolled my eyes.

"You're too difficult to please" if she was honest with herself it was all really just a ruse for him to say that he wanted her again, or to say he loved her but she wasn't all that honest.

"Nope, I'm not." and maybe if he knew what she was thinking he would have said exactly what she'd wanted to hear, it was probably true anyways, but she was fairly good at keeping her thoughts unreadable.

"I just need a ridiculously hard-headed prickly girl who makes me spaghetti with extra cheese." It wasn't I love you, but it made her giddy inside and with easier spirits right away.

"Oh right, easy to please." she grinned, when she was playful, she really was a good conversationalist. He turned serious again though

"I just didn't want to hurt her." Her, Rose, the girl that was so in love with him she'd convinced herself that Malfoy was a saint. The worst part was she was really, genuinely, a nice girl. Maybe not to Ginny; but she wasn't out rightly mean, she just kind of ignored Ginny. Ginny resented but could not actually dislike Rose; she could only be hurt that Malfoy wanted less to hurt her than he did Ginny.

She nodded though, "That just hurts her more though, you know that right?" this was something thing she did; she didn't let him get away with things to himself. She was honest and made him face it.

"I know." He said sighing heavily. "I should have talked to you about it." He said honestly.

"You didn't have to" she said, I wouldn't have wanted to hear it anyways, she thought.

"You should have told the truth in any case."

"I know" he said again. Not too concerned, but more contemplative.

"Did I fuck it all up?" he asked, turning and looking at Ginny.

"I don't know." Was all she said, not really sure what 'it' he was talking about. He nodded

"You don't care do you?" he said slightly bitterly. Yes, she wanted to say, but she couldn't. She rolled her eyes instead, "Of course I care you ass." She would never give him the benefit of her being okay with him, she hated herself for it but it was true.

He smirked anyways though, "I like hearing stuff like that," she gave him a disgusted look, "too bad I have to egotistically seek out remarks like that."

Her eyes were rolling before his sentence was even done "Good thing you have a nice big ego to compensate for that then."

She laughed and stood up, "I gotta go to bed Malfoy," which meant, time to leave, get out, she didn't want to talk to him anymore, "I have to go over to Ron and Hermione's tomorrow." It was her lame excuse to be away from him. He knew it, but couldn't prove it so he stood.

"Lunch at the Leaky Caldron?" he asked to her retreating back before going into the fire.

She turned back and looked at him and thought about him and lunch and them for a minuet or too and when she turned back.

"One o'clock" She nodded,

He grinned and nodded and said goodnight and walked to the fireplace waving once with his back turned before he was engulfed in the green flames.

She didn't even continue to her bedroom but collapsed on the couch half way there. How did big prats become so gooey in her hands. At least he wasn't a sop this time was all, she could say for herself. She went to bed feeling a little better but slightly used none the less.

After that they got lunch together most days. They'd eat somewhere none too exciting and stroll around Diagon alley or Muggle London for half an hour talking. That was how she wanted to remember their relationship, pleasant, uncomplicated and _nice. _The thought consumed her mind even on her most pleasant afternoons with him. There was no denying that some sickening kind of perfection lay in their relationship. Ginny just couldn't convince herself that anything was worth jeopardizing an already lovely stroll around London. Draco on the other hand, couldn't see what was more worth taking to the next level than the most amazing woman he ever had the pleasure of entertaining.

This is what made them so special, the mere fact they enjoyed each other wholly. They were people from different tracks of life doing their business, with love; perhaps not in love, but with love.

They were ordinary. Personality wise, job wise they were anything but, but in their day to day interactions with each other they were not explosively passionate, nor adventurous—they were ordinary. Just two people, sitting in a room together enjoying each others company for the most part; enjoyment that seemed to never burn out.

To some it seemed like mediocrity had taken over and infested their lives. But true mediocrity is like true contentment, one step away from bliss, one step away from greatness.

Contentment is all-consuming, it is when everything is at peace and at rest—never above par but still a little bit more than okay—and bliss is the all consuming feeling of joy; always more than you expect or desire. That's what Draco knew they could have, Bliss and Ginny feared loosing contentment for something that she might not ever obtain.


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter 3

Months later they were just as she assumed they would never be; in each other company primarily and happily plodding along. Except for, of course, the fact that war waged on around them, things seemed too perfect. Yet surely as the sun rising each day, each day darkness crept into their daily lives. People were missing, then found dead. People were claimed dead, and deaths were ignored. Corruption was beginning to infiltrate the government. The streets were not bare or closed down, but passersby were growing sparse. Little shops were closing and only staples like the Leaky Cauldron, Madame Malkins and Flourish and Blotts were safe to really go to. So each day, they met at the Leaky Cauldron for lunch. And with him she could somehow forget that horrors surrounded them.

Eating with him one day she considered how thankful she was that they were both not in real danger, and how sickening it was that she was almost thankful it was other people. Lost in this thought she didn't even notice him leaning in, but he had.

She looked up when he was looming too close for her to react and right above her tomato soup, he pressed his lips against hers and kissed her; and she kissed him back.

When he pulled back a little her face was frozen. His arms were crossed and resting on the table and he was still leaning so forward his forehead was nearly touching hers. And he was smirking. Her brain wasn't even functioning to be able to make a face or move her body.

"What, Malfoy?" was all she could get out, as if he asked 'you know what Weasley?'

He just stared at her with an all too understanding look, "How about now?"

She knew what he meant by that. Things were racing through her mind. The fact that he'd done it, and she didn't know how or when he'd done it but he'd made it perfect again. She'd started liking him again. She was questioning how she'd fallen in love without noticing, that perhaps he'd manipulated it all. Above all else though, she was thinking, that he kissed her. Right here, just seconds ago, no warning, no nothing. He kissed her. And she liked him.

"Run away with me." he said to her blank unresponsive face. She knew she must've looked like an idiot. She felt the slackness in her face and that her eyes were widening still. She must have looked dumb, in every sense of the word; as her eyes widened more his narrowed with glee.

"Work." Was the first semi-comprehensive thing that came out of her mouth.

"Quit." He made it sound so easy.

"Friends…" and things started coming back fast. As she felt her senses returning her mental blocks and barricades went up, her sharp criticisms came back, but also a sense of remorse, that even she knew, her hard headed nature would probably deprive both of them what they desperately wanted in one way or another.

He raised his eyebrows at her, asking for challenge.

"Ron? Hermione?" her tongue hadn't quite caught up with her mind yet. Just past monosyllabic was where she was.

"Weasley…they've got each other. Who've YOU got?" he looked exasperated, but quickly changed his expression to amused.

Only to look more amused when she didn't answer.

"That's right," he smirked "Me."

"You're stuck with me." he pointed to each respective person as he said it slowly.

She banged her head on the table in front of her overdramatically, "Oh no!" This would all be easier to do with her face hidden. Her mind knew what she was going to do, but her heart hurt already from having to do it. She needed to escape his gaze to maintain the strength to do what she desperately did not want to do.

She lay motionless, searching for the strength to say something. Arms crossed and her head nestled in its nook.

He poked her head with his finger a few times.

"Weasley?" He whispered in her ear.

"Weasley." He whined out while shaking her shoulder lightly.

Finally, he yanked her arms away and stuck his face down on the table next to hers.

"FINE," he said to her unresponsive body, "we don't have to run away, you can just move in with me and get married." He compromised cheerily.

Her eyes opened wide and she lifted her head high enough to rest her chin on the table, just to tell him off.

"Yes, yes I'll even meet your family" he continued conversing with her before she could get actual words out. He rolled his eyes and she opened her mouth.

"We can move into your apartment if that's what you really want" he kept beating her to the punch though. She opened her mouth and got words out this time, before him too. "MALFOY!"

"What?" he started "Why are you yelling??" she glared at him; it was his goal to make her look like a complete imbecile. She knew it. While she glared she thought about the words she would say carefully. She couldn't say no this time, he'd offered to make everything okay by everyone's standards.

"No." she said.

He looked at her and looked in her eyes, and no matter how she would have loved to say yes, he could tell and she knew her answer would be no. Her heart was pounding and aching for her to say yes. Her mind was reeling at the possibilities of a yes. But her mouth resolutely would not even begin to form the shapes to mouth a yes.

He nodded at her, suddenly tired and left after that.

She sat, not in shock but in pain. At herself. At him. With him gone she could think of a hundred good reasons to say no, reasons she couldn't think of while he was there; their age, their positions in life, the war, his past record with women. But for the life of her, she could not feel like it had been worth it to say no.

Not too far after that, everyone started seeing less of him. It didn't stand out though, everyone saw less of everyone. The war was worsening. Everything was in the open now. Everyone knew, and most everyone had taken a side. _Most_ everyone.

He stopped stopping by for dinner. He'd come to her office everyonce in a while and stand in the doorway and halfheartedly quip at her. But eventually he stopped doing that too and one day he was just gone.

As people started disappearing due to war and Susan Bones' body had been found not so subtly stowed in an alley way right by the Leaky Cauldron in muggle London ginny began to worry. She couldn't contact him. Owls came back days later with posts still attached to them. The floo wouldn't go to his house. His apartment seemed abandoned. She said nothing, but silently wondered if he'd just run away without her. Found something else, someone else. She latched on to any thoughts that meant he hadn't changed his colors. Things were coming to head very soon. She knew it, the Order knew it. no one knew how the pieces would fall though, no one could even guess. All they could do was hope.

The day that Hermione's parents died he stumbled into her apartment at 1 in the morning. That's how she'd begun to remember that year, segmented into deaths of people close to her. Her fear was the war wouldn't end before a time when she couldn't distinguish one death from another.

He looked like he hadn't slept in days and he stumbled to her and grabbed her hands. And she grasped them back, relieved. She was shaking and relieved to see him alive, to be touching him alive, in her hands. She closed her eyes and let spread to every part of her, and as soon as she'd done that her shaking turned to anger.

"Ginny, I've done something bad." He rasped out before she could yell at him for being an idiot. Her anger didn't subside, but she noticed then that he was thin, a little dirty and emaciated looking. She wondered when he had last seen daylight or eaten.

"Run away with me." he begged her, "Leave this shit life," he pleaded "this war," his voice was rising "this hate." He was yelling, almost crazed.

"What'd you do Draco." She whispered; almost accusingly but more scared looking.

"Leave with me Ginny." His eyes bore into hers showing no sign that he would answer her but begging her, forcing her. She wanted to say yes. She wanted to not have to push him. She knew he wouldn't tell her and probably for a good reason by some standards or another. But she still, still after the war, after his words and after his actions wasn't ready to give in. She briefly wondered if she would ever swallow whatever was stopping her, but quickly returned to the present.

"Whatever you've done Draco," her voice wasn't steady but it was harsh, "tell me, we can try to fix it." were the nicest words she had in her. No acknowledgement of any words he'd said or any past requests to be with her.

"It only goes down hill." He said, staring at her harshly, like she'd done something awful that she wouldn't man up to, rather than the other way around. "Run away." Was all he kept saying, "Run away with me."

It was like a trigger word for her though, "Stop trying to RUN Draco!" she yelled and then it all spilled out, in this obvious crucial moment all the things she'd never said came out. Things that she hadn't entered her head while she worried about him night and day for the weeks she hadn't seen him. All she'd prayed for in that time was for him to be okay, for him to come to her just like this some night. She prayed for him. And now that he was there, all she could think of was how hurt and angry he made her.

"I won't be you're escape, you're… you're other woman." She stuttered with hurt and anger. "Face up to things." She was screaming now "And when you're that strong maybe I'd consider." She was crying, from what appeared to be anger. But it was hurt. Hurt at her own words. She was, in her own insane way, pleading with him to say he loved her, to make everything real to her. She wasn't even thinking about the war. She was thinking about the prospect of never feeling validation.

She threw his hands out of hers.

He looked at her like he was about to be sick and shocked at the same time and fell backwards, never hitting the ground—he apperated first.

The next morning it was all over the news. And even though the news couldn't be trusted, it was news in the mouths of everyone, even those she trusted. He'd been caught as a death eater. That very morning, at four o'clock in the morning he'd been seen, in robes and no mask, with his father. Just hours, she calculated, after he'd begged her to run away. She turned her back on it; she didn't want to think of the implications either way. She just stayed angry and hurt. She turned that anger into a 'hate Malfoy' campaigned. That would last throughout the war. And it was no secret to anyone on either side that she held him with the utmost contempt. For what he'd done to her family's protection; completely and outright disrespected and disregarded was what he'd done in her eyes.


End file.
